


A Simple Year of Courtship

by knitmeapony



Series: The Courtship of Sir Daye [1]
Category: Toby Daye - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Cagney (Toby Daye), Etienne (Toby Daye) - Freeform, F/M, Lacey (Toby Daye)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitmeapony/pseuds/knitmeapony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toby makes the grievous error of letting Tybalt court her 'properly'.  Oh, the horror.  The horror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Year of Courtship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ancalime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime/gifts).



> This is last minute and thus unbeta'd and incomplete. I shall try to post further installments even after the deadline as I can write them. Happy Yuletide, dearie!

"Tybalt?"

"Mm?" He stepped up behind me and wound a lazy arm around my waist.

"What is _that_?" He peered over my shoulder and at my doormat.  My unnecessarily disgusting doormat.  I could practically feel him narrowing his eyes. "That, I am afraid, is a _complication_."

\---

Faerie has a lot of weird rules. Most of them tend to keep things a little less than lethal, but there were a few that got downright bloody and violent. I thought I'd heard of most of the really peculiar ones but apparently I'd missed at least one -- last I checked there were none that required artfully arranged and disembowled squirrels on someone's doorstep.

"It's a measure of courting," Tybalt said, after we'd disposed of the poor thing and sat back down at the table.  My coffee was tepid but still reasonably delicious, and I took three big gulps of it to brace myself.  I'd found the squirrel when I went out to get the damn newspaper.  I just wanted have a nice breakfast at the entirely reasonable hour of O'Dark Thirty -- for once, I had nobody banging on my door to ask me to take a case, and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to use that time to sleep in -- but now my coffee and waffles time had been ruined by squirrel guts.  Coffee alone would have to do.

"It's a measure of _what now_?" I made a face. "Oak and ash, I've heard a lot about courting in the Courts," I grinned a little at my clever turn of words, good on me for only having had the one cup of coffee, "but nobody ever told me about ritual death of tiny rodents."  Something about that sounded familiar, and after another gulp of coffee a memory surfaced somewhere in my brain.  "Wait." Tybalt had the grace to look a touch embarrassed as I gave him a suspicious look. "Is this a _cat_ thing?"

"Perhaps it is," he said somewhat loftily. "Perhaps our sensibilities are a touch unusual to the outsider.  That does not make them any less magesterial."

"And by 'a touch unusual' you mean totally, unnecessarily _gross_."

He looked offended, now. "By the sky and stars, I still can not fathom the depths of strangeness that make _you_ disdain the sight of blood and offal."

"Hey now." I reached for my second cup of coffee. " _I_ do not use awful in my magic." The change of words was intentional and for my own private amusement, but his snort told me he'd heard it. "Let's focus on Mr. Squirrel.  It's a cat thing, but you're telling me you didn't do it?"

"I did not. I assure you, if I had brought you something to prove my assiduousness as a provider, I would not have chosen a _squirrel_."  I felt faintly wounded on behalf of the squirrel's honor. "Nor would I have left it untended on your mortal doorstep." That was probably more to the point.  

"So who would've done it?  Normally I'd start making lists of enemies, but for a threat that was pretty low-key."

He considered that for a long minute, and then abruptly got to his feet and left the room.  I stretched out my legs and let him go. Chances were good that he'd had some thought about what had happened, and he was off testing his theory. I was more than content to sit there, drink my coffee, and let him do his thing. See? I'm not interfering. I'm letting Tybalt do his own investigation. I think I'm growing as a person.

A moment later he returned and Cagney and Lacey were behind him, looking somewhat impatient. They lept up on the table and fixed their gaze on Tybalt. "I must apologize, my good Sir Daye," he said to me with a twinkle in his eye and a teasing bow. I just lifted my eyebrows and gestured with my coffee cup for him to continue. "Apparently my lack of formal courting has been noticed by two of my most loyal subjects. They sought to rectify this situation by courting on my behalf, as is allowed, although _usually_ done with the noble's knowledge and permission."  I got the feeling that Cagney in particular was having nothing to do with the subtle scolding in his statement.  

My lips twitched but I managed not to snicker. "So my cats thought you were being ungentlemanly and tried to treat me like a lady on your behalf?"

"So it appears," he said. "We have been rather unorthodox in our courtship from the beginning. So the gift was not a complication, simply a well-received chastising on your behalf. Am I to be forgiven?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said, sipping my coffee. "Am I getting more rodents? I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world; I hear fur coats are in this year."

"If you wish me to court you, all you have to do is ask." My cats, somewhat molified by their King's improved behavior, hopped down off the table to return to whatever trouble they'd been getting into before. Tybalt was looking at me, and I realized he actually wanted an answer to that.  

"Well then," I said with a little grin. "Yes, you are forgiven, but you better court me right, mister.  I know damn well who runs this household, and they run around on four legs, not two."

His face went solemn then, and his tone of voice changed. "As my lady wishes." It was as formal a pronouncement as I'd ever heard, and I suddenly realized what I'd gotten myself into.

"Crap," I said, and he laughed as he sank back down into the chair opposite mine. "Do I need to court you back? Because I really don't know how to do that, and I'd rather not ask Sylvester for advice." I'd been brought up well enough in faerie, but there were gaps when it came to some of the finer points of my education.  Formal courting was usually a noble thing, after all.  I suppose I could ask Luna, if I really needed a crash course. Or even the Luidaeg, though that'd be a little bit like borrowing a canon when you were looking for a pop-gun. Still, I think I'd be less embarrassed talking to her than to my liege lord.

"I think it would be quite acceptable for the courting to be one-sided," he said with an amused quirk of his lips. "Why change our old habits now?" Ouch. That one stung a little -- it'd taken me years to get over my denial about being in love with him -- and it probably showed in my face. He leaned forward to take my hand and kiss the back of it, soothing the prick in my conscience. "You may, however, occasionally need to wear a dress."

"Aw, _crap_."

\-----

Faerie courtship lasts a year and a day, of course. For immortal beings that don't like being on a timetable, they sure did love their meaningful dates. There were stages and rules and gifts and certain moments were absolutely essential. Fortunately, all the pressure was on the courter, not the courtee.

"I recommend you do not reject any gifts, no matter how lavish, unless you seek to end this..." my advisor in courting gestured with two fingers in the air, a loop that was almost  question mark. Etienne was too polite -- or at least too proper -- to say exactly what he thought of Tybalt's courtship, but he certainly left a lot of space at the end of his sentence for me to fill in the blanks. I really couldn't bring myself to ask Sylvester about all this nonsense, but Etienne owed me and he'd already seen Tybalt and I at our, er, courtinglyest.  "And you certainly could end it, any time you wished. No one would fault you or blame you in any way."

"Thanks," I said, dryly, "but I brought this one on myself. I should see it through to the end."  I leaned back in my chair and let my head hit the wall - gently, at least.  "I gotta say, I don't know if I'm looking forward to it."

"Am I to understand that you don't welcome his affections?" Something like hope slid into his expression. "Because if you wish, I will happily help you turn him away."

"No no, I like his _affections_ ," I said, meaningfully enough to make my fellow knight turn away with an uncomfortable expression. "I just figure this is one of those times I can't have my cake and eat it too." See? I told you I'd grown as a person.  Old Toby would've railed at the concept of required courting like it was her business and still expected a relationship at the end of it.  New Toby was going to put up with it because honestly, New Toby did not have the energy to deal with the arguing.

He sighed, and I shrugged at him. "Besides, how bad could it get? I get Tybalt _and_ presents. There are worse fates."

"You say that now," he said with a thin smile. "But wait until," he mentally counted, "October? Ah. How ironic."

"What happens in October?" We both heard teenager's laughter from the next room and instinctively turned our heads. Raj and Quentin had managed to quite handily befriend Etienne's daughter Chelsea. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but then Lily reminded me about things like hormones and I remembered what I'd been like as a teenager, and suddenly I'd started chaperoning them. Heavily.  I'd brought both the boys over mostly as an excuse to talk to Etienne. It was a transparent ploy, but everybody was happy so nobody called me on it.

They laughed again, all three of them, louder and longer this time.  They'd all had a rough time of it; sometimes hearing them sounding like _kids_ made my heart ache a little.  And worse yet, sometimes I found myself wishing that my own daughter had made a different Choice. The thought of the _four_ of them, not three, raising hell together and having a grand time through faerie could've made me weep into my coffee a few months ago. Things had changed, though, and now I just smiled and went back to tearing my hair out at their hijinx. It was almost like I was a responsible adult.

They didn't seem to be up to anything particularly dangerous today, at least, and after a minute of suspicious listening Etienne and I relaxed.  "You will find out what happens in October," he said irritatingly, "when it is October.  And Sir Daye -- good luck to you.  If you intend to pursue this, I do hope it ends well."  

"Thanks," I said, for once less than sarcastic.  That was as close to an endorsement as I was going to get from anyone I knew. And really --  I'll take all the good luck I can get.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Simple Year of Courtship [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856156) by [the_dragongirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dragongirl/pseuds/the_dragongirl)




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